Are You Free?
by HelenaHermione
Summary: The 4th Doctor, on the run in London, finds himself taking refuge in a strange department store in the 1970s. Welcome to Grace Brothers, going up... (Note: Some crude, slightly offensive humor. The 1970s.)


Well...I just decided that it was necessary. Awhile ago, I read the Eighth Doctor comic, in which he and Izzy were running around the BBC in 1975, with the cast of the show 'Are You Being Served?' getting involved, and more recently, I have been reading some of the TARDIS Eruditorum books, and wondering why the author doesn't include a chapter on 'Are You Being Served?' as a contemporary influence. (Since Monty Python might have had an influence/counterpoint in the Pertwee era...)

But most of all, I have been getting nostalgic for Grace Brothers. My PBS station used to run AYBS and Last of the Summer Wine all of the time on Saturday night, but I had not seen an episode of AYBS on PBS in years. So I've been watching the old show through Netflix, and wondering what would happen if the Doctor wandered through the doors of Grace Brothers...

* * *

**Are You Free?**

Welcome to Grace Brothers:

The Doctor rushed across a busy street, holding his hat tightly onto his head with his scarf trailing behind him, and ran down a sidewalk, ducking round people occasionally. He hoped that he wouldn't be spotted. He spotted a revolving door, and without looking up at the sign over his head, which read Grace Brothers, he went in and went round and round about several times before he emerged into the lobby of a local department store.

The Doctor's eyes widened as he glanced about. There were too many people here, but still he had to risk it. He raced over to the bank of lifts, and missed one just as another arrived. He went to the second one, but the door was closing before he even reached it. The Doctor fumed and jabbed the 'up' button, waiting impatiently for one of the lifts to arrive as he glanced about.

For a moment, the Doctor was slightly unnerved at the sight of a moving female mannequin heading his way, remembering the Autons, but then he realized that the female mannequin was being carried by a rough-looking janitor with graying hair.

The janitor stopped right next to him, clutching the mannequin tightly as he waited for the lift to arrive as well, while the Doctor stared at the mannequin. "I say, shouldn't you cover that up?" The Doctor asked.

"Don't make a bit of difference, does it?" The janitor asked, glancing at the Doctor. "She doesn't mind a bit." The janitor grinned.

"I do mind." The Doctor muttered, shaking his head. "Earth in the 1970s…"

"What's that?" The janitor asked as the lift finally arrived.

"Nothing. Good day." The Doctor said, tipping his hat to the janitor as he hurried into the lift, but the janitor with the mannequin was right behind.

"Hang on! Hold the lift!" The janitor cried, pushing his way through the lift doors with the mannequin, crowding the lift alongside the Doctor and the lift attendant. "Right, sorry about that, first floor." The janitor said.

"And you, sir?" The lift attendant asked the Doctor.

"Um, the same." The Doctor said, not really having any preference.

"All right then." The lift attendant said as the Doctor heard the sounds of cash register keys clacking, not to mention muzak playing in the distance. "Ground floor perfumery, stationary and leather goods, wigs and haberdashery, kitchenware and food, going up!" She cried, closing the doors.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?" The Doctor asked as the lift crept up.

"You sound like Mr. Lucas." The janitor remarked. "Nah, you get used to it after awhile, sir. Plus, it's got a good beat to it to start your day." The janitor laughed, sashaying a little bit with his mannequin just before the lift doors opened on the next floor.

* * *

The Doctor walked out first and then stopped at the top of the steps in front of the lifts bank, gazing out across the floor, and the people lazily walking about or standing behind the counters, either shopping or serving customers. It's a nightmare, the Doctor thought to himself. I've been to despotic planets with more color and style than this. Although there was one woman with blue hair here who looked like she didn't belong on this planet.

"Mr. Mash!" A stern military man, dressed up in a suit, climbed up the steps and addressed the janitor. "Kindly take the service lift next time you come up here, how many times do I have to tell you that?" He asked.

"It's still on the fritz, Captain Peacock, and I couldn't get the regular lift downstairs in the basement, too much traffic up top." The janitor Mr. Mash explained. "So I climbed up to the ground floor to catch the lift there."

"Why didn't you climb the stairs all the way up here?" Captain Peacock asked, staring at the odd-looking, bohemian man who had gotten off the lift alongside Mr. Mash and wondering what he was doing here. "You were already halfway up the stairs."

"I've got rights, same as the next man," Mr. Mash said, shaking the mannequin's head in Captain Peacock's face, "And the union dues all paid up. And those rights and union rules entitle me to the use of the lift as I see fit. So up yours, Captain!"

"Bravo, Mr. Mash, bravo!" A man's voice called out from below as two fellows, a brown-haired man and a silver-haired man, both clapped and whistled from where they stood behind the men's counter. A third, bald, older gentleman, with a blue measuring tape wrapped around his shoulders, sat in a chair behind them, snoring.

"Well done." The Doctor remarked quietly to himself.

Captain Peacock frowned, fuming to himself. It wasn't right, he shouldn't be treated this way. It was beneath his dignity. "Mr. Mash, are you done yet? We have a customer waiting here. Please be civil! Mr. Humphries, Mr. Lucas, kindly control yourselves." The two men currently at the counter turned away, and pretended to look busy. "We are running a store here, not a club." Captain Peacock said, turning back to the janitor. "Union rules and rights are one thing, Mr. Mash, but we still have the responsibility of maintaining a certain air and atmosphere here at Grace Brothers for the best shopping experience possible. Now scram." Captain Peacock insisted.

Mr. Mash rolled his eyes. "All right, all right, I'll take the mannequin off to get her dressed. Eh, Gwen, you feel like wearing blue or red today?" Mr. Mash asked the mannequin, walking towards a backroom.

* * *

The Doctor smirked slightly. Their behavior and attitudes certainly were appalling, sexist and chauvinistic, but it did have a strange charm and datedness about it. He felt the same way about most time periods he visited. Captain Peacock shook his head and turned to the Doctor. "May I help you, sir?" He asked.

"Ah, right," The Doctor said, hesitating. He needed a good excuse to stay here for a little while longer to avoid getting captured. "I wonder if you might be able to show me something in the way of…hats." The Doctor said, deciding to land on something relatively safe.

"This way, sir," Captain Peacock said, languidly walking down the steps, with the Doctor following after him as best he could, trying to look like a prince. "Mr. Grainger, are you free?" Captain Peacock called out loudly to wake the older gentleman.

Mr. Grainger snorted as he woke up. "Can't you send him to Mr. Humphries or Mr. Lucas? I'm busy at the moment." Mr. Grainger said, before he settled down again.

"Right." Captain Peacock said, extremely annoyed.

"Excuse me, but don't you, Captain Peacock, help serve the customers as well?" The Doctor asked.

"I'm just a floor walker, sir, I only assist the customer in getting them the service they need." Captain Peacock said, exasperated at being addressed so informally by a person he barely knew.

"Right," The Doctor said, slowly nodding. "Strange ritual, though, unnecessary and excessive." He remarked, glancing around. "What a strange world these department stores are, all on their own."

"Mr. Humphries?" Captain Peacock asked, wondering if someone, anyone, would take this man away from him.

"I'm free." The silver-haired gentleman said, smiling crookedly as he walked over. "May I help you, sir?" He asked the Doctor.

"I'm looking for a hat." The Doctor said, "A simple hat, if someone would be so kind as to help me? I would be much obliged." He said.

"I love to oblige. Follow me, sir, right this way," Mr. Humphries said, leading the Doctor off to a corner of the mens' department as Captain Peacock, relieved, returned to his post of walking the floor.

Mr. Lucas shook his head, chuckling. He loved to watch the antics that his fellow employees, especially Mr. Humphries, employed here at Grace Brothers, except for when the joke was on himself. It was like being on a comedy show at times.

* * *

"I don't see what all of the fuss is about." The younger woman said to the older blue-haired lady. "It's not like it's anything important, who gets to ride in the lift or what not."

"Miss. Brahm, it is the principle of the matter that is at issue here," The older blue-haired woman said as she folded lingerie. "It's not important who takes the lift, it's what the lift is for." She turned to Miss. Brahms. "The staff have the responsibility of making sure that the lift is free and open to all customers, and that it is available whenever they need to use it. Unnecessary trips by staff members take up lift space, and customers might be thrown off shopping up here if they have to take the stairs. I know I would be if I could afford it." The older woman muttered.

"Still, it's not right," Miss. Brahm said, shaking her head and glancing over at the strange-looking customer who had just entered the department. "What do you suppose he's here for?" She asked, curious.

"Hopefully another scarf." Ms. Slocombe said, shaking her head. "A long scarf like that one is not fashionable this season. Men should have short scarves, don't you think so, Miss. Brahm?"

"I don't know. I kind of like them long." Miss. Brahm said, grinning.

"Irresponsible, that's what it is." Ms. Slocombe sniffed. "A scarf like that one can get caught anywhere on anything. Imagine, you can trip over your own scarf, or get it caught in the lift shaft. Where would you be then? It's even a fire hazard."

"It looks fun." Miss. Brahm emphasized.

"Fun gets you nowhere but a back alley at two a.m." Ms. Slocombe said, shaking her head. "With a man rubbing himself all over you."

"What do you know about that? I can handle myself." Miss. Brahm said, shaking her head. "I certainly avoid Mr. Lucas and Captain Peacock well enough, don't I?"

"If you say so." Ms. Slocombe said, sniffing. "And I do know a lot, by the way, if I do say so myself."

"Right." Miss. Brahm said, grimacing. "I better go put these away," She said, grabbing an armful of clothes, and carrying them off towards the backroom.

* * *

I don't know quite what's going to happen next, but this was easier than I thought. Stay tuned!


End file.
